


To shave or not to shave

by ChocoNut



Series: Modern JB love [22]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Smut, F/M, Heavy Petting, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Tension, Shaving, Stubble Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24521389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: That is the question Jaime Lannister faces...Note : Edited to add a second smutty chapter.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Modern JB love [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557871
Comments: 32
Kudos: 119





	1. Seduction

Jaime ran his fingers over his chin, critically examining every corner of his face in the mirror. “It’s my bad luck that I’ve run out of razors,” he grumbled, scowling at his reflection. “Can’t believe none of the stores have them in stock. This fucking lock down--”

“Oh, calm down,” Brienne shot down his lament, tired of listening to him going on and on, making a big issue out of something as trivial as this. “It doesn’t matter if you go without a shave for a few days.”

He pondered her suggestion, then perched on the bed next to her, raising his brows in question. “You think a beard will suit me?”

Stumped, she didn’t know how to answer. “It might,” she said, cautious and diplomatic, taking care not to let slip through her body language that her mental image of his beard caressing the hidden corners of her body was one of the main culprits for her sleepless nights. “But this stubble, though, could end up a nuisance--” 

Freezing midway to mentally curse her lack of self-control, she stopped before any damage could be done, what she was about to accidentally confess to, one of her deeply guarded secrets.

“Why?” Gone was his grumpy face, a ray of intrigue emerging in his flawless features as he edged next to her, searching her eyes for an opinion. “What’s wrong with it?”

How could she tell him that she’d pictured his coarse, prickly facial hair all over her body so many times? Warmth gushed up her chest and to her neck, the mere thought of it turning her on, lighting her up with an arousal so damn unbearable that it had only two solutions - a good hard fuck or cold shower to calm her down. 

Jaime, however, made matters worse for her when he went on, “Brienne,” unwilling to let go, so close to her now that his thighs brushed against hers. “Why do you think it’s a nuisance?”

“Well,” she said, trying to find her way around her impulsive slip of tongue, wiping her palm on her knee before he could spot her nervousness. “Not exactly a nuisance, but--” Again, finding no dignified euphemism for what she was going through, she dropped all attempts to explain.

“What?” He frowned, his gaze, long and hard and intense. “You can’t just leave me with half-baked comments, wench.”

Confronted with a stubborn Jaime and no choice but to come out with the truth, Brienne decided to go for it. “You see, when you kiss someone and she reaches out to caress your face--” she licked her lips at the prospect, although, it was an imaginary _someone_ she was talking about “--she can end up finding it quite pokey.”

He exhaled heavily, eyes drilling into hers, lost in his thoughts as well as trying to read hers. “And?”

 _This is some random woman we’re discussing. Not me._ “If you nuzzle down her neck, it’ll prick and burn, leaving scratches all over her--”

“And?” He sounded strange, his eyes darkening, his voice thick, as if he was making an effort to speak.

Thoughts of him stripping her, fondling her, flinging her on the bed and getting rough with her swarming all over her head, she went on in a trance, “When -- when you make love to her--” She faltered, the picture her imagination began to brazenly paint, achingly vivid, the little details coming alive, one by one, with every passing second - her breasts aching for his touch, the pleasant burns, sore and red and bringing her skin to a tingling high, only to be soothed later by the cooling flicks of his tongue. “When you bury your face in her chest--” 

Falling short of the courage to divulge any further, she fell into an embarrassed moment of silence, realizing she’d revealed far too much.

“Yes, Brienne?” he prompted, his voice, trembling slightly though his gaze never wavered, penetrating her, and she squirmed, parts of her out of his sight beginning to throb violently with want.

“Brienne?”

Her mind darted around for a chance to wriggle out of this. “Enough of this. I’m going back to my room--”

But before she could get her arse out of his bed, he pushed his urgent mouth to hers, crushing her with his demanding pressure, his hot wet tongue flicking her lips apart and plunging into where he’d never been before. She sagged into him with a sigh, ripping away her mask of inhibitions, relenting, conceding, joining him. Kissing her harder, wilder, when she’d let down her guard, he began exploring, bringing out the deepest urges from their hidden recesses within her for him to see, to feel, to taste. Her hand flew to his cheek, caressing him, the delicious contact of hair against skin, making him gasp and driving her to a moan, flinging her body and her senses to a point of no return. Her other hand roamed down his front, and she wanted to never stop, to let her fingers, forever, reside on his body, stroking his chest, gathering the feel of his taut muscles. Down, she went, further, tickling his tight abs to feel him tense beneath her touch, teasing his waist, fingering, gently, the growing bulge in his crotch. 

“Nuisance, huh?” he breathed, bringing his hand over the one she had on his face. Dragging it down his neck when she palmed his erection, he croaked, “Still think I’m pokey, Brienne?” the savage gleam of lust in his eyes and the thirst in his voice, sending a flood of desire pooling between her legs. 

“Y--yes,” she weakly stuck to her stand when his fingers departed on a lazy stroll down her neck, stopping to feel her every now and then, his teasing, the wait she’d have to endure to have _all_ of him, driving her crazy. And when he moved lower to press his thumb to her nipple, she let slip a gasp, the poor little touch-starved bud hardening under his pressure, crying out to feel him beneath her shirt. 

“Does it prick?” he growled, stroking her cheek with his, the red hotness of his stubble, sending a shower of angry sparks all over her, his needy breath, adding fuel to the fire, stoking the flames. “Does it burn?” He slid down, pressing hard deep kisses as he went, wedging his chin in the hollow of her throat when he’d come to a halt. “Am I going to leave scratches all over you tonight?”

“Yes--” Closing her eyes in resignation, she clutched at his shirt and pushed him into her. “Yes, and just--” What answer could she give him except the truth? No more, she could say, but for a needy, “Just keep going.”

His hands slid under her shirt to grope her breasts while his mouth rode down her chest, nudging her nipples over the cotton, and she could scarcely breathe, struck hard by the slick wetness of his tongue contrasting the roughness of the friction, her clothes offering no protection against the parching heat of his ruthless attack. “Jaime,” she moaned his name, when he took one of her tits between his teeth, the feel of having him on her, yet, away from her, a thin layer shy of her bare skin, too distressing to cope with. “Jaime, don’t you ever stop--”

“That sounds like a resounding appreciation for my stubble.” Undoing her buttons to spread her shirt open, he buried his face between her breasts, settling into an enticing to and fro rhythm, the combined effect of the lace of her bra and his facial hair tossing her into a bottomless pit of molten fire, leaving her in that agony to burn and perish until he chose to grant her respite. 

He teased for a while, shoving her up the walls of agony, the thin translucent fabric of her bra, wet from the assault of his mouth, her breasts swollen and craving his naked touch, her nipples, painfully stiff and standing upright from the punishment he’d been dishing out to them.

“Fuck,” she swore, when he refused to relent and give her what she wanted, for that was the most she could do.

Her breath, laboured, and at his mercy just like her body, within no time, she’d had enough of this. _Him_ , raw and hard, his mouth on a ruthless tour all over her body, was the only remedy to her swiftly mounting suffering. Sweating and panting, her skin red and sore from stubble burns all over, he would be the cause for her torture. He would be the only means for her respite, his hands squeezing and caressing and touching her everywhere, his balls slamming into her thighs and his cock drowning in her, plundering her, their furious fucking the only balm for her pain. 

She wanted him to go on a rampage within her, his body, sliding against hers, the salt of his sweat, one with hers. And she wanted it _now_.

Pushing him away, she shrugged off her shirt and unhooked her bra, her impatience and the need to get to the bottom of this, getting the better of her. “I need you, Jaime” she panted, looking straight into those blazing eyes that matched her intent as she worked her way out of her shorts and panties and kicked them away. “Your skin on mine, your stubble rubbing me down, scratching me all over, rough and fiery and--”

He didn't let her finish, hastening to peel his shirt off that very instant, his gorgeous chest, hers to kiss, to touch, to do whatever she felt like with it. In the mad rush of the following frantic seconds, the remainder of his clothes found their way to the floor and he crouched before her, unwrapped, in all his handsome glory, the sight of the magnificence of his erection, sending a strong stream of current shooting up her groin, the intensity of it, spreading far beyond and within. 

When she reclined, her back against the pillow, her body, open for him to devour, his gaze flitted from her chest to her flat stomach and then further down to the aching arousal between her legs, and he licked his lips, his eyes lighting up with a lustful, loaded glint. “Wow,” he whistled, taking her in. “Never knew not shaving could lead to something like this. Does this mean you-- I mean -- you and I--”

“Yes,” she purred, not even aware of what he was about to ask. Eager to get skin onto skin, she pulled him into an embrace and slid down on her back, his body wrapped around hers, his thick cock pushing against her, teasing her wetness. “Stubble… beard…” She struggled to speak, every word, an effort, whether it made sense or not. “ _This_ … _everything_...” She had to pause to catch her breath when he dragged his cheek across the tender skin of her breasts. So sensitive she was to him, so responsive to his touch, that she could feel each and every stiff hair on his face, every little prick his movements left behind, rushing straight into her core. 

“Yes, Jaime,” she whimpered, gripping a handful of his hair and digging her heels into his legs when he set out on a blazing trail down her front. “ _Yes._ ”


	2. Climax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the name of the chapter suggests... ;)

Just as she braced herself for the onslaught, he stopped short of her groin.

“What the--” Brienne began to object, but up, he coursed over her front again, his scruff, carving a trail of his progress along her pale smooth skin, leaving his mark wherever he went.

“Oh, wench.” His heated breath blazed down her body, ably accompanied by his roving whiskers, together, the two of them and all of him, bringing her torture to an exponential rise, the red-hot friction, shooting her senses up to a spike of no-return and driving her nerve-endings to a point where they could take it no more. “Is this--”

“Yes,” she gasped, to whatever it was that he wanted to ask, the thin red circle around her navel, pumping up the desire in her loins. “And I need more. All of it.” 

Frantic, she dragged her hands down his back, the cool sweat his skin bathed her in, making her feel powerless and aching for more. She was burning beneath him, stinging all over, every bit of hair on his face, making its agonising presence felt on her skin. And how she loved this! With every inch he moved, she writhed and twitched, her stomach jerking into his chest, her toes, curling and uncurling, suffering, yet, craving for more. So fucking surrounded by this fire, she was, that it was eating into her, every prick, every scratch, every patch of redness he left behind, introducing her to a new phase of this torture. Little beads of perspiration pearled over the soreness, his or hers, she wasn’t sure and she didn’t care. Cool against her ravaged skin, though it felt, it brought her no respite, edging up her desperation instead of alleviating her agony, nudging her to another level of togetherness with him.

One, as they were meant to be, her body was responding to him like oil to a spark of fire, parched under the strain of craving for this all along, thankful to her for letting this happen, at last.

While his stubble lingered around her ribs, nuzzling her into oblivion, she took his hands and slid them along her front, leading his long, skilled fingers down her throat to her stiff nipples, and further below, lower, over her belly and beyond, bringing it to rest just beneath her waistline. With a little yelp when he rubbed away merrily up her side, she guided his delightful fingers into her soaked cunt, squeezing her thighs together with all she could manage to bind her to him, imprison his arm pinned between her legs as he slowly began to work his way inside her.

“You won't believe what you’re doing to me,” she gasped, nearly coming right there, feeling him spreading her open and touching her the way she wanted to be touched… the way she needed to be touched. Never before had she thought of, not even in her wildest fantasies, that a shadow of facial hair and a petty deliberation about it was all it would take to ignite her.

He stroked her in just the right way and teased her in just the perfect way, his experienced fingers easily manipulating her as she ground and thrust into his fist. His thumb worked her clit in lazy, delicate circles, setting her alight with shivers that ran from her cunt up to the tip of her tits. His hands moved up and down her legs, caressing the soft skin of her ankles and calves, lurking around her thighs for longer than she could bear it, his fingertips, drawing thin lines up and down her tender skin. 

“ _Just.like.that._ ” 

The words came out broken and disconnected when he buried his face between her breasts, scraping up and down, then staying there for a precious few seconds, soaking in her warmth, leaving her with his. “Yes,” she mouthed again, barely able to hear herself when he brushed his cheeks against her rock-hard nipples, his deep sighs, waking up every pore, every cell he met, his needy whispers of her name, fuelling the flames those little spikes of hair had kindled all over her. 

Taking one of her erect nipples between his teeth, he bit playfully into the tip, prodding her before swooping down fully to suck her in, his rough chin engaging in a dynamic of its own with her breast, a rhythmic to and fro motion along the curve tracing out yet another path to his conquest. His fingers, in the meantime, busied themselves elsewhere, deep inside her, nudging into her throbbing core, twisting, to discover, to explore. She gasped, wanting nothing more than for him to replace his fingers with his long, hard cock and fuck her senseless, his face to leave her sore and red and unrecognisable, come morning. 

Harder, he drilled into her, as deep as he could go, and hit by an involuntary shudder, she thrust back up against him, a wisp of his name escaping her lips when she came, every desire she bore for Jaime, piling up in that very moment, welling up inside her as she exploded in a fit of unadulterated bliss. Her body seemed to have a mind of its own, its will, directed by his as she moved against him, her heart, thumping to the beat of his. 

“Is this what you have in mind?” he asked, his lips teasing her throat, his chest, settling into the rhythm of her heaving breasts as she panted for breath, her orgasm leaving her shaken to her very core.

 _Yes,_ she wanted to answer, but all she could let out was something that was a cross between a grunt and a moan, all her senses attuned to the one sensation she felt.

_Jaime._

_Jaime fucking Lannister._

Just a moment to recover, he gave her, barely enough for it to sink in. That was all, before starting all over again, kissing her stomach and licking her breasts, her nipples still stinging with desire as he flicked his tongue over her hardened buds. 

“My turn now,” she decided, then gently pushed him off her to get up to a crouching position, gesturing, he did the same. Her mouth ran dry at the sight of his broad hair-kissed chest that glistened with a sheet of sweat and the effort he’d depended on her, and after a moment’s break to admire him, she dragged her nails down his rippled stomach, kissing her way down his torso, her lips avenging the punishment he’d meted out to her, descending, sucking away the delicious beads of perspiration on their way. She paused to inhale his scent - of sweat and musky body-mist, of man and everything else sexy and heady and intoxicating, then nuzzling down the tempting golden streak, she went further until she hit upon the pleasurable weight of his balls. Licking her lips, she gripped his shaft, his gorgeously engorged erection throbbing under her touch, thirsting to be stroked and caressed and kissed, waiting to be taken to pieces. 

“Oh, this is heaven and hell,” he grunted, grabbing a bunch of her hair when she took him into her mouth.

One look at his eyes, and she knew she was back in the game.

Slowly, she licked his massive shaft, letting her tongue trace the distinct outlines of the pulsing veins threatening to burst out from within. Kissing his tip, she sucked him in, taking him as deep down her throat as she could, to pleasure him endlessly, the sole thought in her mind, her only objective.

Plus, revenge was sweet.

Holding him captive, she moved in and out, his cock bulging and pulsing inside her mouth, a beast that had to be tamed, hers, to be contained. Dragging her nails down over his thighs, she revelled in the sensation of his body shaking with every move she made and every slither of her tongue, knowing that the roles had reversed now. It was she who held such unlimited power over him, had him bound to her and at her mercy. 

“Gods, Brienne!”

His cries, the hunger in his eyes, egging her on, she went in faster, tethering him to a leash, keeping him on the edge for so long she’d lost track of the time. Seconds or minutes? Neither of them cared. It didn’t matter; nothing did, except his feral roars and grunts and the grip he had on her hair, her neck. She pleasured him with every sensual stroke of her hand, every flick of her tongue. She gave him everything she had. And more than that.

She held him under her spell, her captive, roaring and shouting her name, his body quivering, pleading for a sliver of mercy, practically begging to be torn apart.

Finally, she let go of him, for such a wonderful cock was meant to be elsewhere, someplace better than her mouth, someplace he could seek more than a rushed release in her mouth.

“Enough of the tease,” he growled, and then, she could feel his aggression, his pent-up frustration in the way he shoved her to her back and mounted her, his hips, pushing between her thighs, his cock, impatiently jutting against her, giving her a measure of the built up heat within him.

No edging. No more foreplay. No fucking fooling around, for neither of them had it in them to wait any longer.

He sank into her in one deep plunge, and she fell back under the pressure of him, shifting, adjusting, not bothering to cut back the cry that left her lips. The sensation of his hands moving up and down her front and engulfing her hungry breasts, and his cock, sawing in and out of her, left her moaning with excruciating pleasure, and him, scoring another point over her in this feverish game of lust. He let his hands hungrily rove up her neck, groping and pressing into her flesh with lust unseen before, and she let out a small whimper, only to be stopped by his mouth, his deep fiery kisses, silencing her, his moans and heavy breathing mixing with hers while the sounds of their passion filled the air in the room. Their bodies moulded together, her soft feminine skin, a perfect contrast to his masculine toughness, her tenderness, perfectly blending with his coarse roughness. Their limbs intertwined, they began moving, him, into her, her, slapping into him, a blissful union of two people who were poles apart, yet so similar.

And again, her skin was on fire when he dragged his lips down her neck, kissing her chest, his tongue gently nudging her nipples. She could barely breathe, the strength of her arousal and the intensity of his cock inside her too much… just too much. His hand moved down between her thighs, arousing her desire to even greater heights while the other cupped her breast. She felt her nipples grow even harder under his touch, her body continuing to defy her, listening to none but his commands, to what he was doing to her.

On the ride of her life, he took her, fast and rough, enjoying her sexual desperation, his eyes shining with his need for her as he shot deeper and deeper into her, his groans pinning down her moans, urging her to accept and let go, to surrender, to blend in with his passion. As his fingers worked their way all over her, his mouth moved expertly over the softness of her skin, every touch igniting her passion higher, his cock becoming one with her, not once, not twice, but for what felt like a million thrusts, the sweet feeling filling her body with delicious sensations. 

She pulled his face to hers and kissed him hard, the taste of his mouth and sweat tossing her, once more, towards a climax she’d have to make an effort to recover from. “Oh, this is it,” she cried against him, not able to -- _no_ , not wanting to temper down the intensity of the lust he provoked within her. He pushed himself in and she arched herself up, giving in to his need as he gave into hers, going deeper and harder. She could feel his excitement pulse within her, his tremors trickling into her walls as she spread her legs to take him in further, her body embracing his cock to the fullest, till as far as he could penetrate.

Every time she mouthed his name, he muffled her cries with hot deep kisses, his arousal, his build-up resonating with hers as every fibre of her being began rocking under the onset of her orgasm. His stubble was all over her, on her stomach, her breasts, everywhere, teasing and scratching her soft flesh as she gyrated against him, tormented by, yet, enjoying the fullness of him and what he was doing to her. She could sense his helplessness, hear his excitement growing as she felt her body letting go, what she was on the threshold of, almost too much to bear. 

“Jaime!”

The sound of her helpless plea seemed to excite him more and he went in with all the vigour he could muster, his cock hitting her pleasurable zones, making her squirm and tremble and pant with the intensity of what he was putting her through. As she exploded around him, she could feel her end triggering off the beginning of his, the tension in him, gripping her, stretching her. She could sense his need to let go. 

He pinned her down tightly and pumped her hard, rocking against her, giving way to his orgasm, his moans, his gushing release, his satisfied growl and the warm weight of his body shaking quietly above her making her feel like the Queen of the Universe. 

“Oh, wench,” he softly sighed, before closing his eyes and sinking into her.

Brienne lay back, holding him as he went limp inside her, caressing his back and planting feathery kisses along his flushed, damp neck.

This. Him. This was it.

“ _Wow,_ ” she whispered, when they had cooled down enough to talk, finding no better way to express what she’d been through. “Just--wow.”

Jaime bent, his cheek brushing her chest and setting off a fresh wave of want within her. “So all I had to do was grow a beard to seduce you, huh?” he breathed, rubbing back and forth against her. “Never knew you had a thing for stubbles--”

“ _Your_ stubble,” she squealed in correction, driving her nails into his arm when he dug his chin into her breast.

“Hmm,” he hummed, then slid his mouth up her neck, stopping just short of hers. “What other parts of me do you have a _thing_ for, wench?”

“Oh, loads of them,” she confessed, heat pooling back into her groin as she found herself looking forward to more. 

“Like?” he prodded, peppering her chin with soft little kisses.

Her fingertip hovered over the blond trail that ran down his torso, itching to have a feel of it against her skin, to have him inside her again. “Your chest hair, for instance,” she revealed, recalling how many sleepless nights she’d spent trying hard to get rid of the image of his rough skin grinding into her breasts. 

Just like in her dreams, he wriggled against her, his chest grazing her nipples, his eyes brimming with curiosity to get to the depth of this. “And?”

She wanted more and she wanted it now. But she wanted to unwrap him step by step. “One bit at a time, Jaime,” she said, unsure of her forced patience when she pulled him down to seize his mouth. “One night at a time.”

“How about _now_ , Brienne?” he breathed, his words dripping with the need to go all the way. “All at once, hmm?”

Giving her no chance to put it off, he began kissing her deeply, ripping away her patience and her resolve to take this at a measured pace, his body inviting hers to another pleasurable voyage, showing her how eager he was to get to know every bit of her better. Every wish, she harboured, he would gladly fulfil. The passion he exuded, his kisses, the way he touched her, told her that. 

Loudly. Clearly.

**Author's Note:**

> A silly little impulsive piece. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
